


Flyover Country (Exes, Aliens and Cupcakes)

by Sadisticsparkle (sadisticsparkle)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aliens, Crack, Hopeful Ending, Humor, M/M, POV Tony Stark, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Reconciliation, Rocket Raccoon - Romance Guru, Stony Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 17:31:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19155718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadisticsparkle/pseuds/Sadisticsparkle
Summary: Because the universe was more into pulp aesthetics than he had thought possible, that was his assigned mission now - find raccoon, ascertain origin, subdue him by any means possible, bring him in.‘There has been a… development.’‘What is it, FRIDAY?’‘Captain Rogers seems to be in the area.’





	Flyover Country (Exes, Aliens and Cupcakes)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my Post-CA:CW square in this round of Steve/Tony Bingo!

Whenever Tony steered his mind away from swarms of bug-like soldiers and towards the kind of alien life you’d _want_ to meet, he pictured patronizingly benign advanced beings, ships burning in the belt of Orion and all that kind of fake philosophical bullshit. Grand empires spanning galaxies and millennia, science so advanced it could be magic. He even pictured entities so beyond understanding they’d break his brain like a non-racist sci-fi Lovecraft story.

What he did _not_ picture was a raccoon with a laser submachine gun he was dying to take apart.

But because the universe was more into pulp aesthetics than he had thought possible, that was his assigned mission now - find raccoon, ascertain origin, subdue him by any means possible, bring him in. Steps 2 through 4 would be difficult but Step 1 wouldn’t be -- human beings were inherently social, inherently curious and therefore inherently inclined to update their social media. And what was more worthy of an Instagram story than a talking raccoon berating a gas station clerk for failing to have enriched plutonium as an option? So the Internet was swarming with videos and photos of the furry thing and Tony had an AI that could sift through it faster than a retail worker on a break.

‘FRIDAY, find the latest video and pinpoint its latest known location. Show me the most popular ones in the meantime.’

‘You shouldn’t drive and Instagram.’

He had to stop programming AIs with safety concerns. They spoiled all his fun. ‘It’s okay. You’re handling the flight anyway.’

From the looks of it, the raccoon was a foulmouthed scrawny thing who kept demanding people they give ‘the fugitive’ to him. The fugitive, from FBI reports and FRIDAY’s own research, was a nice cupcake baker that lived in some small little town in some big empty state with a name Tony didn’t remember. Said cupcake baker had lived an unobtrusive, quiet life and their most notable quality was having very trite quotes on their dating profile in CupCakeLove, a baking-oriented dating site. It could be a fake identity, but so far nothing explained why a vermin from outer space would be interested in them.

‘There has been a… development.’

‘What is it, FRIDAY?’

‘Captain Rogers seems to be in the area.’

‘What?’

FRIDAY, wordlessly, played a few videos and highlighted the bearded, tall man lurking in the background. He didn’t need to zoom in to know - that was Steve. A few years ago, the raccoon would have been the only worry on his mind. He’d be making jokes and Nat would chuckle but deny it. Thor would talk about some weird raccoon-thing that he used to kill back home. And Steve… well. Steve would be Steve.

He shook his head. Those days were over. And now, Steve was more of an unknown factor than the thing that fell from space. He knew what the proper course of action would be — turn back and go home, let others handle it. Avoid the confrontation, the raw burning feelings that he still had and the acid bitterness of their memories. But he didn’t want to give Steve the satisfaction.

‘FRIDAY, take me to the raccoon’s target. He’ll show up there eventually.’

He wasn’t sure what would happen when he landed on the main street of the quaint little town and met Steve for the first time in so long - would they be strangers? Would Steve tremble with anger or beg for forgiveness?

He hadn’t thought of the easiest answer — he’d land and Steve would be there, standing around all Steve-like, waiting for him. He hadn’t changed one bit, despite the beard. In fact, he had even kept the uniform. Tony’s hands itched to take it off - it had visible tears and Steve had dyed it black. A stealth tactic? A way to save on laundry?

He wasn’t sure of what to do either. Talk? Punch him? Ignore him? When he was in boarding school, he had learned that the best course of action was to come up with a barbed joke. It was aggressive, so they’d take you seriously, but it was lighthearted, so they knew _you_ didn’t.

‘Aren’t you a bit old for your goth phase?’

‘Hello, Tony.’

Steve didn’t get to do that. He didn’t get to avoid raising to Tony’s bait, to cut straight to their frayed… whatever it was they had had. He didn’t get to sound honest and hurt. He didn’t get to be… flesh and bone and not the snarling villain Tony had spent months and months imagining, trying to bury the memories of laughter and joy and warmth under layers of recrimination.

‘You don’t get to call me that.’

‘I’m… I guess that’s fair.’

And now he was being noble and martyring himself, lording his superiority over Tony. ‘Right, so now I’m the bad guy.’

‘No, that’s not it! I…’

They didn’t have to do this. He had a mission — and it wasn’t to dig in the putrid bones of his and Steve’s dead friendship. ‘I’m looking for a raccoon.’

‘I have his location. I can help.’

‘Give me one reason not to call Ross, Rogers.’

‘I can’t. You’ll have to find it yourself.’

Damn it. He had none. Despite the betrayal, despite the lies, despite everything, all it had taken was one look at Steve’s sad, depressed demeanor to forgive him. It was one thing to have Steve as a distant idea, as a point in the map or something to keep an eye on. It had been easy to hate him then. It was another thing entirely to have him there, unwashed, older but still the same man deep down, with the same deep blue eyes and full mouth, the same broad back and strong arms.

‘What makes you think I won’t?’

‘You could’ve caught us a long time ago, but you didn’t.’

‘This is different. This is…’

‘Is it that different?’

‘Whatever, Rogers. Help me catch the raccoon and I won’t turn you in,’ he said, turning around and walking towards the bakery where the raccoon was headed.

‘Deal,’ Steve said and followed.

 

 

If he had to be honest, in the end, the raccoon had found them and not the other way around. It said hello with a shot that left a smoking crater right in front of him. He took flight and there hadn’t been a need for words. Because it had been… great. Like time hadn’t passed – because he remembered Steve’s moves and Steve remembered his and there was no need to talk. They had never needed to talk on the battlefield. It was quick - he spotted the raccoon on a nearby roof and drew its fire. His armor got singed and he had to admit the raccoon was quick and had a great aim, but it didn’t spot Steve until Steve had him cornered in the roof.

He landed next to him and crossed his arms before opening the faceplate. ‘Do you see the damage you’ve done?’

The raccoon spread its hands wide. ‘You cannot blame me. I was on a job and the town was ugly anyway. Call it a renewal project.’

‘What’s the job? Getting some cupcakes for Jabba the Hut’s gender reveal party?’

‘I have no idea who Jabba is. I’m here to capture the famous galactic mobster, Bloffins. I have official papers from the Nova Corps and all.’

‘Right. Bloffins. Famous mobster. Sure.’

‘Hey, I’m not lying. She’s dangerous. She runs the galactic trade of Tlatesian spices and wine. Wanted in three solar systems. Once ate a Ylluian High Priest and you know how they get.’

‘What’s your proof?’

The thing sighed and projected a hologram from some sort of wristwatch. The hologram showed a misshapen tubular fuchsia being and clarified it was accused of forgery, murder, assault, robbery, and recreational cannibalism.

‘I’m not seeing it around here and I think we would have noticed.’

The raccoon facepalmed and sighed dramatically. ‘Humans are so stupid. How do you even survive? Do you think I’d come here without a good reason? Have you _seen_ your planet?’

‘More insults? Are you that much of a sore loser?’

‘I didn’t lose. I let you win so your feelings wouldn’t be hurt.’

Tony was startled when Steve chuckled. ‘What are you laughing at, Rogers?’

‘It’s just… it reminds me of… you,’ Steve said with a grimace.

‘The rat?’

‘I think he’s more of a raccoon, but yes. He’s tiny, angry and arrogant.’

This was the thing that Tony hated the most about Steve - how under the earnest All-American hero laid a bastard with a knack for deadpan comments. Well, what he hated the most was that he found him funny most of the time.

‘Hey, I’m not tiny! I’ll give you angry and arrogant, but tiny? Come on,’ the raccoon said and it would have continued with its rant if Tony hadn’t interrupted.

‘Do you really think I’m in the mood for insults, Rogers?’

‘You’re smiling,’ Steve pointed out.

And damn it. He was.

‘Still… we’ve got to capture the raccoon and turn him in.’

‘Look, before you do that, check the energy readings. They make no sense for a backwater like…’

‘This town,’ Tony said with a bit of distaste. There was nothing open on the main street and half the stores seemed to be closed for good.

‘Earth,’ completed the raccoon, with the exact same tone Tony had used.

‘Earth is a great place and FRIDAY, do energy readings.’

‘Sure, if I wanted to play at being a primitive being with no real sense of comfort.’

‘The creature appears to be right,’ FRIDAY said.

He took a look at the readings himself. Damn it. They were very unusual spikes in radiation that started before the raccoon had been spotted. In fact, his monitoring systems should’ve caught those spikes. He’d have to tinker with them - it wouldn’t do to miss stuff like that.

‘Well, raccoon, it appears you have a point. Maybe.’

‘I always have all the points. It’s a talent of mine.’

Was this how it felt to work with him? No. He was taller and his hair was better groomed.

‘So, humans, we need to go…’

‘… about 100 feet north of here, give or take. We should expect at least a forcefield if my readings are right.’

‘Remember that time in…’ Steve said, deciding to break out of his pleasantly amused silence.

Tony did. He didn’t appreciate the reminder of their past together.

‘That was four years ago. A different time.’ That came out more bitter than he intended. ‘I’ve updated the models and…’

‘Explain it to me later.’

‘Yeah. I can send you the reading to prison,’ Tony said before taking off. He didn’t want to hear Steve’s answer.

Flying to their destination was over too soon - there was a huge pink sign that said ‘A Touch of Frosting’. That was an understatement, considering the huge monstrosities sitting on the shop window. They defied physics and they defied the notion of what was edible - Tony didn’t think colors that bright were appetizing in the least. A blonde, rosy, giggling woman came out of the store wearing a pink apron decorated with small smiling cupcakes. She wore her hair in a messy bun, which was currently covered with flour and small spots of green icing.

‘Oh, goodie! What do we have here?’ it said before its flesh rippled with a ghastly sound. The thing shed its skin and the fuchsia tube jumped at him but didn’t reach him. Steve had stood between them and kicked it in the face.

That had been a bad idea - its face opened and showed a myriad of fine, sharp teeth. It closed its mouth around Steve’s leg and started, well, trying to eat Steve’s leg. Tony didn’t consciously make the decision to shoot the alien in the face, but the shot distracted it long enough for Steve to take out his leg from the alien’s mouth. And then, with one of his bullshit ballerina moves, he kicked it with the other leg, sending it far away from them both but close to where the raccoon was.

With a cackle, the raccoon shot it and then jumped on top of it. It blasted the tubular thing on the face and the thing crumbled. Tony hoped it was unconscious.

‘The thing better be alive,’ Steve said when they got closer.

‘What? Yeah, of course, Nova Corps doesn’t pay you if they’re dead. Really annoying, if you ask me. Tin Man, grab the thing and bring it my ship.’

Tony didn’t even know why he complied. Maybe he wanted it to be over.

‘I’m not Tin Man. I’m Iron Man.’

‘Wow, we’re touchy. Rocket Raccoon, by the way.’

‘… you’re literally called _raccoon_?’

Something in the way Rocket looked at him made Tony shut up.

 

 

A few minutes later, the alien was sitting snugly in Rocket’s small little technological marvel, still asleep but now chained to a seat. Tony didn’t care about that now — he cared about the engines he imagined inside the ship and the weapons systems that he was already trying to figure out. He didn’t understand half of it and that was exhilarating.

‘Hey, stop looking at it like that,’ Rocket said.

‘Like what?’

‘Like you wanna tear it apart. It’s my ship. Don’t tinker with it.’

‘He can’t help himself,’ Steve said, sounding _fond_ , as if he still had the right to be amused by Tony’s antics.

Rocket climbed into his ship but turned around before closing the door. ‘Are you humans all the same?’

‘Brilliant and eternally curious?’

‘Nah, _annoying._ ’

‘Do you even have experience with humans?’

‘More than I ever wanted! I work with these… guys. You know, they’re… my employees. Yeah. That. And there’s a human that’s very annoying because he keeps making jokes with one girl. He keeps insisting on doing… the whole thing with the hips and the swaying and the sweating? What do you call it?’

Tony looked at Steve. Steve looked back. Neither of them was going to clarify because it was too much of a personal conversation to have with an alien.

‘Oh. The dancing,’ Rocket said, snapping his fingers.

‘What’s that gotta do with anything?’

‘This whole thing with you two? Looked like that. Like you two wanna dance and are being annoying about it.’

Steve’s face closed off like a maximum security prison. Tony did what he knew best — bluster.

‘You need human culture remedial classes.’

‘Hey, I get it. You’re a strong independent man in a can who needs nobody. I get you. I say the same thing aaaaall the time. We both know we’re lying.’

‘So what if we’re lying?’

‘Well, sometimes people buy it and then you’re in trouble.’

The raccoon closed the door to his ship, with a smile on his ugly little mouth.

The engines began revving and the Raccoon was suddenly off to the sky, laughing his head off. Tony almost felt sorry for the poor human who worked for him.

‘I should turn you in.’

Steve crossed his arms, lost in thought. Tony felt the need to tug on his pigtails and was annoyed because Steve didn’t have any actual ones.

‘You know… I always bought it.’

‘Rogers, please… What are you even talking about?’

‘That you don’t need us.’

Right. All those years, all those times he had tried to reach out, to grasp a bit of what Steve was actually like and all it actually took was a furry space creature that moonlighted as a romance guru?

‘This is bullshit. This is some bullshit. You can’t come waltzing back and have emotional conversations because now you think it’s the time!’

‘You can fly away if you want.’

‘No. I want to hear this. So you were saying I don’t need you.’

‘Yeah, you don’t need… me,’ Steve said after a minute. He wasn’t even looking at Tony in the eye. He hated that, so he took a step closer to Steve, to be close enough he could see Steve’s eyelashes and the faint blush in his cheeks. Close enough that it’d only take a bit more to kiss Steve. He shook his head.

‘And how come you believe that, Rogers? I asked you to _stay_.’

‘I know! I’m sorry. I thought it would be for the best.’

‘Why are you always sorry and do nothing about it? It’s just words.’

‘I have nothing else to offer to you.’

‘When have I… I don’t need anything from you, Steve. I have never asked for anything. How much of an idiot can you be?’

Steve’s hands curled into fists and there it was, the trembling anger Tony remembered so well. The anger was easier to deal with.

‘Yes, you kept… asking and asking for…’

‘For you to stay! It wasn’t that much to ask, but it wasn’t what you wanted. You just wanted to fuck off when all I’ve ever wanted was to… to take you out dancing...’

‘Okay.’

‘I’m not expecting anything, you know. Just putting it out there. Maybe the rat was… wait, did you say okay?’

‘It sounds like a good idea.’

The fight had gone out of Tony’s body and Steve was… he didn’t know how to describe the way Steve’s lips had parted and the way his eyes seemed to shine.

‘Are you agreeing with me?’

‘Well, there’s a first time for everything, right?’

He closed the distance, grabbed Steve’s neck and crashed into a kiss. It tasted like defeat and stale coffee, but it promised something better.

‘Okay. Dancing then,’ he said. His mind was in a fog of surprise, longing and hope, but reality trickled back in step by step. There were laws that Steve had broken, there was the resentment that coursed through Tony’s veins like a dark version of the Super Soldier Serum, there was… well, there was them and all the times Steve hadn’t stayed, all the times Tony had run away. ‘This is gonna be hard, you know?’

Steve closed his eyes and hid his head against Tony’s shoulder. ‘Can’t be harder than…’

 _Being apart_ , Tony thought.

‘No running away this time,’ he said instead. ‘Either of us.’

‘I promise.’

Deep inside, Tony knew that one day he’d believe that and that even if he didn’t, it would be worth it.


End file.
